


Colours

by Jandeera



Series: A Long Way From Home Alternate Universe [11]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Gen, Memories, Reminiscing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-01
Updated: 2013-10-01
Packaged: 2017-12-28 03:16:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/987015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jandeera/pseuds/Jandeera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Faramir's reflections of some of the people he has met, and of places he has been.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Colours

Growing up, I have found that I associate various people, and places, with a particular colour. The colours generally are fairly obvious, reflecting other things that I associate them with. Some are easily explained, some, to tell the story in full, would take hours.

Boromir, for example, is yellow. Sunny and happy, almost impossible for anyone not to be cheered up when they see him. Certainly, he has always been able to cheer me up, simply by being with me, even in the most dire of circumstances.

Father is black and silver. Stern and unchanging for the most part, but with a lighter, shining part, which is mostly reserved for Boromir and I. Since the war has ended, the silver is becoming more dominant when I think of him. His love of Gondor forms a big part of him, and I would not want him any other way.

Uncle Imrahil is green. Not the dark green that forms the background of The Riddermark's coat of arms, but rather the light bluey green of the waves he so loves. One of my earliest memories of my Uncle is watching him and Boromir splash in the waves rolling in on one the beaches in Dol Amroth.

My mother was blue. Not for any aspect of her personality, but because I rarely saw her without the blue mantle that Father gave her, and that I recently gave Eowyn.

Eowyn is gold. Beautiful to look at, catching the eye of all around, and shining like a star. It is also the colour of her hair. It is like liquid gold, just without the heat, slipping through my fingers whenever we managed to give our chaperones the slip.

Mithrandir is not grey. Rather he is vivid purple. This because of a prank that Boromir had set up in order to teach one of Father's council a lesson on not insulting the youngest of the House of Hurin, at least not in the ear shot of the his most fierce protector. Unfortunately, Mithrandir set off the prank before the council member did. It took two weeks for the last of the dye to come out. As I was only three at the time, I was most disappointed. I had never seen a purple human before.

My new Grandfather, Elrond of Imladris, is a grey blue, roughly the same colour as his eyes and the eyes of many of his twin's descendant's, including Uncle Thorongil (A good name to use to annoy our dear King, as it tends to remind him of all the mischief he and father were involved in, mischief that he does not want his father to know about), Father and myself.

Harad, where I have only occasionally travelled to is brown. A very light brown, the same colour as the desert that covers most of the country. The only other colour that could be associated is the dark brown of the coffee that they produce. Uncle Elladan is most happy to have found someone who likes the drink as much as he does.

My beloved Ithilien is green. The lush, dense green of healthy growing things. Already she begins to recover from the darkness, although the King has not yet decided when people will be able to return, and start to fill her hills and valleys with the sounds of life and love.


End file.
